Page 168 of The Comedown

“Fucking deep. I don’t wanna see anyone that’s been using me or my name when I come back.”

“Oh, shit. That’s gonna be…” He looks behind him. “Everybody.”

“Clear ’em out,” is Julian’s last order on the matter.

“What?” Slade repeats before getting ahold of himself to pin a glare on me. “Is this about something she—”

“She has nothing to do with it,” Julian spits, tucking me behind his back to get in Slade’s face. “She was always supposed to stay out your fucking mouth, but you don’t listen.”

My jaw begins to lower on its own accord, so I prop it up with a fist.

“You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Maybe, but I know what the fuck I’m not doing and that’s sticking with your ass. I better not see you anywhere near me or Collette again. We’re done.”

“What about The Mousais? We got—”

Julian gestures between them. “We didn’t get shit.” Glancing over his shoulder at me, he says, “We got The Mousais.”

I step out from behind Julian’s cover, standing beside him, and narrow my eyes at Slade. If he even tries to take credit for that, I have receipts just waiting to prove him wrong.

Slade attempts to send me one last glare, but Julian growls out a warning of, “Try me, motherfucker,” that has Slade’s gaze sinking very quickly.

Axel follows him on to the bus, announcing the party’s officially over, then the night air fills with loud, angry protests.

“You know he’s stealing something on his way out.”

Julian turns to open the Escalade’s back door for me, saying, “He can take whatever he wants. I got everything I need right here.”

My gaze scours over him, waiting for him to say something else. Something to signify he’s joking maybe. But nothing comes.

“Where are we going?”

“To get some new ink.”

Julian gets tattoos when he feels strong emotions. What’s he feeling right now? Good? Bad? Both?

Stepping up to him so we’re toe to toe, I touch my lips to his, gauging how he’ll react, and almost instantly, I’m hauled against Julian’s front as he deepens the kiss.

He tears his lips from mine, and with a creased forehead, he says, “It’s not a tour-mance. Not for me.”

A feeling I’ve never felt before but have always coveted fills my body, starting at my battered heart and rapidly spreading to the rest of me. My fingertips and toes tingle with it until it feels like my body is levitating. It’s just an illusion though because I’m not floating at all. I’m falling.

On top of all the other confessions I’ve given tonight, I give Julian another one by saying, “Me neither.”

Collette

Just over the loud buzzing, I hear Julian ask, “Can I see it yet?”

His impatience never ends.

I shake my head, then stop when the tattoo artist, Finley, pauses to squint at me, the noise halting along with the pain. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten a tattoo, and I forgot how much they hurt. They’re kind of like childbirth in that all you remember is the result, not the hours of agony leading up to it.

“No, not until it’s done or else it won’t be a surprise,” I tell Julian. On the way over, I decided to get a tattoo, too. Julian insisted I go first but won’t stop trying to catch a peek from the doorway he’s been stationed under since Finley started.

“Now stop making me move before you get me in trouble.”

Finley speaks up, saying, “Won’t be no trouble, miss, but your gems might come out less precious than you’d like.”